10 Years

When this post is released, it will be the day before my son Jackson’s tenth birthday.

10 years.

It’s such a milestone that I haven’t quite wrapped my head around what the last decade has been like.

I know it’s been a whirlwind and I wrote about much of it when I dedicated this post to him last year on his 9th birthday.

So, what’s so different in the past year?

Well, as many of you know, Jackson has autism and we gauge progress in a very different way as one might with a typical child.

He does speak more, which is one of his greater challenges.

He might even routinely say a full sentence if he feels the need to get his point across to you.

He’s still one of the happiest children I’ve ever known and he still loves to dance and sing (more on that later.)

Ah yes, he is now a big brother to Sebastian.

And much like his mother and I assumed, he’s mostly indifferent to having a baby around. Jackson tends to work in his own world and doesn’t worry too much about what is going on with those around him.

But when Marissa and I ask him to engage with Sebastian, he’s always very loving, very affectionate and very kind.

I credit his mother, Megan, for raising him to be this sweet boy who knows how to be a caring big brother.

And while there have been some adventures in seeing if Jackson would take to sports, it would seem he’s more like me than we thought. He favors music over most anything else. Over the last month, he’s been taking voice and piano lessons which he seems (at least for now) to be very much attentive to.

He does have his moments of being very shy around people until he sees his reflection in a window or mirror. Then, all bets are off. He’s probably going to start dancing or scripting some moves from a video or movie he’s seen somewhere. He is quite the little ham.

And this is just a small tribute to my little king.

Jackson, I write these words in hopes that some day you might not only read them but understand them. You have always been this unerringly bright light in a world that tends to forget what that can be.

To see your growth and progress year after year makes me so proud to say “I’m HIS Dad.”